


Little Theory

by TheWeepingMonk



Series: Give Me The Worst Of You [4]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Affection, Biting, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Frottage, Jealousy, Kissing, Local Idiots Struggle, M/M, Some Plot, no I will not elaborate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27114353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeepingMonk/pseuds/TheWeepingMonk
Summary: Nick groans, squirming to get out of his grasp, but Troy holds him tighter, kissing and biting at his neck. He juts his hips forward, growling in frustration as Troy angles away from him. Troy bites at the hickey Luciana left him, refusing to let the skin heal. "Stop," He protests, trying to move away from him.Troy stops biting, but he keeps his mouth planted on Nick's skin, sucking and licking at the bruise.Or in which there's affection, jealously, sex, touching, teasing and definitely not love.
Relationships: Nick Clark/Troy Otto
Series: Give Me The Worst Of You [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688803
Comments: 16
Kudos: 65





	Little Theory

**Author's Note:**

> anyone else have "choke me like you hate me, but you love me, low-key wanna date me when you FUCK me (UwU)" stuck in their head or is tik tok just rotting my brain via Corpse Husband asfgdjdkdk
> 
> anyways canon events happen or don't happen in the order they are convenient to me personally.

Troy keeps his word and lets Luciana take what she wants from the pantry, even giving her a small green truck. She leaves with one last glare at both him and Nick. 

Madison and Alicia both question why he didn't go with her, and he tells them he didn't want to risk never seeing either of them again. They don't seem to totally believe him, but they hug him anyway and let him be. Unlike Troy who finds him right after she's left and drags him out to run around with the militia. 

Troy doesn't really speak to him the entire time, but he doesn't keep his distance either, sitting too close at breakfast, brushing up against Nick, and pulling him wherever he wants as they run all over Ranch together. It was infuriating for three reasons, one, Nick was still pissed, two, he craved Troy's touch more than anything, and three, the bastard knew it.

"You're a shit shot."

Nick looked up from where he'd been reloading his gun to find Georgia, another member of the militia coming to sit next to him. "Yeah, well Troy's a shit teacher," he answers loudly, aware of Troy a few feet away talking with Coop. He glances over unhappily and Nick refrains from smirking.

Georgia chuckles. "You know, you seem to be the only one around here who isn't scared of him."

Nick snorts. "No matter who or what he is, he's still just one man."

"Yeah, a man whose father runs the place," Georgia points out. 

Nick shrugs. "I'm gonna treat him like I would any other asshole, and I don't care if he goes crying to daddy about it."

Georgia eyes him, then smiles. "You're a braver man than me."

He laughs and she leaves with a wave so he can continue practicing in peace. He feels Troy's eyes on him again as he turns to fire at the target, and he misses three shots in a row, too aware of Troy to keep his focus. He huffs in frustration, and tries again, but misses because all he can think about is the night before - of every touch, of every kiss, his shoulder aching from where Troy bit him, the skin purple with a fresh bruise.

 _"This isn't just some quick fuck, not tonight. I know I'm big, and as good as you feel like this, I want you to enjoy what happens next and you can't if I don't go easy at first."_ Troy has said.

Nick huffs again. How dare that bastard act like he actually gave a shit about Nick's pleasure–if anything it was simply an extension of his own.

"Clark!" Troy calls, pulling him from his thoughts. "Time to go."

Nick turns on the safety and walks over to the dune buggy. He sets the gun under his seat before climbing in, Troy joining him a moment later.

"What was that?" Troy asks as he starts up the dune buggy. 

Nick eyes him. "What was _what?"_

"Your aim was shit today. You barely hit anything."

Nick shrugs. "So?" 

Troy looks mildly irritated as he says, "You've been getting better since you came here so your performance today doesn't make any sense unless something's distracting you." 

"Why are you so concerned about my performance?"

"I'm concerned about everyone in the militias ability to protect our home." 

Nick rolls his eyes. "Just take us back to the Ranch, and worry about your own performance, dipshit."

Troy huffs.

Nick angles himself so he doesn't have to look at Troy as they head back.

A minute into the commute, Troy puts his hand on the back of Nick's neck, his thumb settling into the base of his skull.

Nick glances at him, but he loves those little circles rubbed into his skin too much to brush him off, and as predicted, Troy starts massaging in small, circular motions. He hates the pleasure buzzing under his skin, hates that being touched by Troy affected him so much. 

"Still angry about last night?" Troy questions, not sounding apologetic or even hesitant to ask, like it doesn't matter to him what the answer is. 

"Yes."

Troy huffs in amusement. "And _me,_ I'm guessing, but it wasn't my fault you cheated on your girlfriend. I gave you a choice to leave and you stayed. You _chose_ me. Three times so far. " 

Nick doesn't answer, and Troy digs his thumb in harder. 

"You can stay angry if it makes you feel better, but that doesn't change the choices you made."

And damn him for making sense. Troy was supposed to the irrational one, not him.

"You just want me to stop being mad so I'll fuck you," Nick mutters because he isn't ready to own up to what he's done. 

"Yeah," he answers shamelessly. "And because I think it's complete bullshit for you to be mad at me in the first place."

"You didn't have to be so smug when Luciana found out or tell her it wasn't the first time!" 

"Why not? She already caught us and decided to break up with you. What's a little salt to the wound?"

Nick growls in frustration because Troy felt completely justified in being an asshole and Nick didn't have anything to say that could change that. 

"Look at me," Troy says when Nick stays quiet, urging him to look by tapping his fingers against his cheek. 

Nick turns to look at him, those blue eyes piercing. 

"I'm not apologizing for shit, and I'm not accepting the blame for anything either so when you're ready to stop being angry, I'm here." He retracts his hand and Nick misses it instantly.

Nick stares at him for a long moment then looks away. They don't say another word the rest of the ride, but as they're locking up the garage and the rest of the militia leaves, Nick walks over to Troy, shoving him against the dune buggy and stealing a rough kiss. 

Troy kisses him back, but for once, doesn't touch him, letting their only points of contact be their lips and the hand Nick has on his face. He lowers his hand to Troy's throat, fingertips digging in lightly. He wants to leave his own mark, to stake his claim the way Troy had on him, but he refrains for now.

Nick steps back after he's taken his fill, twitching because he wants more. He wants Troy to touch him like he always does, to have that lingering trace of his fingers on his skin. But not yet. He still feels bad about what happened with Luciana, and he's just too angry and embarrassed by himself right now to go crawling back to Troy.

Troy straightens up. "I'm here," is all he says.

Nick nods once then leaves. 

* * *

A day later Ofelia poisons the entire militia, Nick included. He's sent to the medical tent, handcuffed to his bed, and fading in and out of consciousness the entire time.

During one of his bouts of consciousness, when it seems he's starting to recover, he finds Troy at his side, the other man writing away in his journal furiously. 

"Writing my eulogy?" He jokes weakly.

Troy looks up, his hand stilling. "Not yet."

Nick hums, licking his lips. He's dying of thirst. 

Troy closes his journal and grabs a bottle of water from the table next to him. He takes off the lid and leans over to press the bottle to his lips. 

Nick drinks from it gratefully, sighing in relief after he's drunk half of it. Troy sets the water back on the table. 

"How do you feel?" 

Nick lolls his head to the side to look at him properly. "Like I'm burning."

Troy stands up, setting the journal on the edge of his bed before walking over to a water basin at the other end of the tent. He watches Troy grab a washcloth and stick it in, holding it there for a good ten seconds before pulling it out, water dripping from it. He squeezes out the excess and walks back over, folding the washcloth into a neat little square before pressing it against Nick's forehead.

Nick sighs in relief, the cool rag like heaven against his overheated skin. 

Troy brushes his hair back, holding it out of the way as he slides the washcloth up a bit more and it's absolutely perfect. He wipes off some of the sweat gently then asks, "Want some more water?" 

Nick nods, the slight movement taking a lot of effort. He's sleepy. So very sleepy, 

Troy sets the washcloth on his forehead before giving him the rest of the bottle to drink, then sits back in his chair next to the bed. "You're doing better than most," he comments. "Half the militias already dead."

Nick hums in acknowledgement. He's too drained for conversation, but can't resist asking, "Why are you here?"

Troy meets his gaze for half a second, then looks away. "Nothing better to do."

Nick hums again, his eyelids drooping. He tries to reach for Troy because if he does die here, he wants to touch Troy one last time, but all he does is rattle his handcuffs. "Hand," he says.

Troy looks at him, confusion clear on his face.

"Please." Nick urges, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Troy looks around the tent, then puts his hand over Nick's on the bed, squeezing it lightly. "Rest, Nicky."

Nick closes his eyes, fading into sleep to the feel of Troy's thumb stroking the back of his hand. 

* * *

The Trimbols try to leave once Mike recovers from the anthrax, and Troy makes a scene in front of the whole ranch, banging and yelling on their camper and refusing to let them leave. 

Jake steps in but Troy just gets in his face and the only thing that stops him is slap from their father. Madison steps in quickly, and Troy takes one look around, staring at Nick briefly before he storms off.

Nick stays with the crowd, listening as Big Otto explains that anyone who wants to leave can but can only take what they put into the pantry from now on. The Trimbols leave, and everyone disperses.

Nick decides to check on Troy because he owed him that much at least. He finds Troy sitting on a rocking chair outside his cabin, throwing rocks at metal cans lined up along the porch railing. 

Troy knocks one over as Nick makes his way up the steps. He spares Nick a glance before throwing another rock and knocking over another can.

Nick leans against the railing. "You alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Troy chucks another rock, missing his target. 

Nick crosses his arms, and gives him a look.

Troy hits the rest of the cans and throws his rocks aimlessly before he finally says, "He was my best friend...He never gave up on me even when the others did, even when I was kicked out of school, Mike was always there and now he's just...He _left_ me."

Troy's staring down at his lap now, expression a mix of sullen and angry. 

"He left this place."

"Same thing," Troy mutters.

"It's not, though," Nick protests. "He almost died and he's scared because he isn't safe here."

Troy huffs. "Safer here than out there."

"Nowhere's safe, and he'll figure that out the hard way."

"He will," Troy agrees.

Nick unfolds his arms and walks over to stand in front of him. He reaches forward and tilts Troy's chin up, forcing him to look at him. His cheek is still red from where Jeremiah hit him, and his eye is still bruised from the spoon Madison stuck in it. He's been so used to seeing Troy's eye messed up that he doesn't really notice it anymore. 

Nick cups his cheek, gently stroking his face with his thumb. "We don't need him," he says. "We'll protect the ranch or die trying."

Troy blinks at him, expression soft and confused. Nick doesn't blame him. He isn't really sure what the hell he's doing either, only knowing that it was easier to touch Troy than speak to him. Troy nods slowly, taking Nick's hand from his face to hold in his own. "Still angry?"

"A little less."

Troy sighs unhappily and squeezes his hand. "You're right," he says. "We don't need him. _I_ don't need him."

As he says it, he's got this decisive set to his expression, and he's staring off into the distance.

Nick doesn't know what he's decided, but he doesn't have a good feeling about it. It was either about him or about Mike.

Troy lets go of his hand after a long moment. "You should go." 

"Sick of me already?" Nick asks. 

"Just need to be alone for awhile...and it's not like you'll let me touch you how I want if I ask you to stay, will you?"

Nick shakes his head. 

Troy stands up, forcing him to step back. "See you tomorrow, Clark."

Nick watches as Troy goes inside his cabin, a little annoyed, but things were weird between them right now so it wasn't like he could expect much from him. 

In the morning, Nick finds the Trimbols bodies with Madison and Jeremiah and they all know instantly who did it, but when they get to the ranch, they lie. They lie and Nick can't keep his eyes off of Troy.

He wonders if this road he's on with Troy will lead him to the same fate as Mike because if Troy could kill his childhood best friend for leaving him, what would he do to Nick? 

* * *

A day later Nick shoots Jeremiah in the head, and he watches through the window as Troy cries, holding his father's face while his own twists in pain. 

It's not guilt that prickles his skin, but regret. 

No, Nick didn't regret killing Jeremiah for a single second, but he _did_ regret that look on Troy's face. His own must've looked exactly like that the day Madison told him about his own father, and from this side of it, he could see the pure anguish he'd felt reflected back at him.

 _It's not because I care,_ he thinks when he sneaks into Troy's cabin. _It's not because I care,_ he repeats when Troy walks in, hovering in the doorway until Nick opens his arms. _It's not because I care,_ he insists when he holds Troy all night long. 

It's hard to remain angry or embarrassed when he's running his fingers through Troy's curls, and wiping away his tears. This isn't love. He won't let it be, but this affection building between them underneath the lust and antagonism is something worth clinging to. They didn't have to pretend be anything other than what they were, a killer and an addict. Or rather two killers with different addictions.

"Why are you here?" Troy asks, interrupting his thoughts.

Nick looks down at where Troy's head rests on his chest, but Troy isn't looking at him. "I wanted to be."

Troy doesn't say anything, but he starts gently rubbing his stomach. "Still angry?"

He considers the question for a long moment, not sure if he was ready for Troy to know, then he says, "No," and finally lets go of his anger and embarrassment for good, not seeing the point in holding onto it anymore. He doesn't see the point in worrying if one day Troy will kill him either because he'd already been doing it himself for years, what was one more poison to an addict? 

* * *

When Walker and his people move onto the ranch Nick has to spend the entire day keeping Troy in check. He starts by sharing how he lost his own father while they stand over Jeremiah's grave and brushing his hand against Troy's, letting him hold it. 

Troy seems to settle, and they go back to militia training where Troy proves as handsy as ever - discreetly of course. Nick thought Troy would need time to grieve his father, but the way he kept touching Nick suggested he didn't. If the militia wasn't all around them, he wouldn't've been surprised if Troy bent him over the table holding the ammo boxes.

He wonders how eager Troy would be to touch him if he knew he'd killed his father. 

Nick aims at a target half-heartedly, pretending to practice while Troy was busy with the new additions to the militia. 

Georgia surprises him by coming up to him and adjusting his stance, her hands gripping his hips, her mouth inches away from his ear as she speaks, "You're _hopeless_ , Clark," she teases. "You have to stand like this." 

It doesn't do what she hopes, at least not how she assumes. He isn't all hot and bothered by her in the slightest, but the look he sees on Troy's face when he steals a glance at him sends a shiver down his spine. 

_"Say it. Say you're mine too."_

_"I'm yours too…"_

Nick hadn't really meant the words when he said them, but looking back, he doesn't regret them. _Too,_ implied he was being shared. _Too_ , meant Troy would let him sow his oats elsewhere as long as he came back.

Or so Nick thought, but the possessive glare on Troy's face said otherwise. 

He decides to test his little theory a bit later, feeling up Georgia's bicep - the woman was _ripped_ \- while Troy waits for him at the edge of the shooting range. He lets her flirt with him shamelessly and laughs at her jokes until Troy whistles.

"Better go," Georgia says. "Daddy might not be around anymore but I'd hate for you to be on his bad side. "

Nick shrugs. "Still not scared, but I'm not in the mood for his bitching so…"

Georgia laughs. "I'll see you later, Clark."

"Later," Nick says with a pleasant smile. He walks over to Troy who's frowning at him. "What?"

Troy doesn't say anything and they head to lunch. Troy doesn't touch him the entire time, but after they eat he announces that training is done and everyone is expected to be at their posts on time that night. 

"Clark, come with me," Troy orders after they've given their dishes back to the cooks. He leads Nick to his cabin. 

Troy pins him to the door the moment they get inside, holding Nick's wrists above his head. "Did you really think you could make me jealous by fake flirting with her?"

"What makes you think it was fake?" Nick challenges.

Troy leans in, inches from his face, "Because I know how you look when you want someone and that isn't it. Even those little displays you did with Luciana gave you that look."

This intensity from Troy makes him swoon, reminding him of what first drew him in. Nick watches him closely as he asks. "What would you do if I fucked her anyway?"

Troy leans in even closer, his breath hot against Nick's ear as he says, lowly, "I'd have to fuck you twice as hard to make you forget."

Nick groans, desire jolting through him. 

"But first I'd make you tell me what you did to her and then I'd tell you to picture me behind you, buried in your ass as she clenches around you," Troy continues shamelessly. "I'd fuck you fast and hard until you came inside her and I wouldn't let you move until she's come on your dick - _twice_ \- and then it'd be my turn. I'd fuck her and make you watch." 

Nick makes a noise embarrassingly close to a whine, arching up off the door towards Troy, silently begging for him to touch him, but he doesn't. 

"Know what I'd do after I've tainted the memory of your night together?" Troy questions. He places a faint kiss to Nick's earlobe.

"What?"

"I'd let you fuck me so the next time you're buried in pussy all you'll be able to think about is _me."_

Nick groans, squirming to get out of his grasp, but Troy holds him tighter, kissing and biting at his neck. He juts his hips forward, growling in frustration as Troy angles away from him. Troy bites at the hickey Luciana left him, refusing to let the skin heal. "Stop," He protests, trying to move away from him.

Troy stops biting, but he keeps his mouth planted on Nick's skin, sucking and licking at the bruise. 

"Why won't you let it heal already?" Nick questions, settling back against the door. 

Troy doesn't answer, instead he kisses a hot trail up to Nick's mouth, forcing his mouth open with his tongue. 

Nick's eyes flutter closed as he enjoys the feel of Troy's tongue teasing him, a thrill shooting through him. They haven't been this sexually active in days, and Nick doesn't even care if this is all he gets he just needs Troy to touch him - anywhere. 

Troy undoes Nick's fatigues, and then his own, and his excitement grows. He tries again to press against Troy, but again, he moves away. He makes a noise of disapproval in the back of his throat and feels Troy's smile pressed to his lips. 

The bastard. 

Troy pulls away after a solid minute, kissing his way across Nick's cheek and up to his ear where he says, "When I let you go, I want you to turn around and plant your hands on the door, understood?"

Nick nods, and Troy kisses him on the mouth one more time before letting go of his wrists. He turns around, planting his hands on the door.

Troy presses against him, his cock hard and thick through his fatigues as he grinds against him. 

Nick moans, pressing back into him

Troy thrusts against him a few times before forcing Nicks pants and underwear down. There's some rustling and then Nick feels his bare cock pressing into his crack, one hand gripping Nick's hip. 

He looks back at Troy under his armpit, seeing his pants hanging loosely on his hips, his underwear tucked under his balls, and his cock curving up along his ass. 

Troy winks at him with a sly grin, thrusting forward hard and making his body jerk with the force of it. Nick looks away with a smile, and repositions his hands to keep himself steady as Troy does it again, and again, quickly reaching a steady pace. 

Troy's mouth latches onto the back of his neck, kissing and sucking at his skin all over, pulling Nick into his thrusts.

Nick hums in approval, arching into him.

After a couple of minutes, Nick tries to touch himself, but Troy bites his shoulder so hard he tenses before he can, forcing a cry of pain out of him. 

Troy stops moving, slowly relenting his harsh bite. "Don't," he says, voice rough.

Nick puts his hand back on the door slowly, and Troy kisses at where he'd bitten him apologetically, his tongue tracing the teeth marks. "Use your words next time," Nick grumbles, not liking the pain in his shoulder.

Troy leans against him heavily, his right hand wrapping around him to land on his chest, his fingers mapping out his torso in bursts, stroking his skin. He brushes over Nick's nipples then dips down sharply to his belly, then farther to his thigh, gripping it tightly. 

Nick's breath catches, excited at the prospect of Troy touching him. 

So of course all Troy does his massage his thigh briefly before dropping his hand away. 

He nudges Nick's legs further apart, and repositions his cock under Nick's ass, his cock nudging his balls and upper thighs. His hands settle on Nick's hips and he starts thrusting again, precome leaving his skin wet. 

Nick moans at the sensation of Troy's thick cock pressed so intimately to his body - fucking him in an entirely new way. He thrusts harder and harder until Nick gasps suddenly - pleasure spiking so fast it's almost overwhelming. 

"Touch me," Nick begs, aching for Troy's hand wrapped around him. He cranes his neck, and Troy kisses him at the awkward angle, but besides his thumb stroking at his hip, he doesn't move his hands at all. "Please."

Troy thrusts faster and harder, seemingly interested in getting off first, and Nick breaks the kiss with a frustrated huff to save his neck the strain, and brace against the door. His cock leaks, and bounces against his stomach to the rhythm of Troy's thrust and he digs his nails into the wood to keep from touching himself. 

He knows when Troy's close because he rucks up the back of his shirt and stops thrusting long enough to rest his cock against Nick's lower back. He's rock hard and slick with precome and Nick hardens impossibly at the feel of him there. 

Troy comes on his back a few moments later, leaning heavily on him, and panting hotly in his ear.

His back is warm and wet, and all Nick wants is Troy's hand, his thigh, his mouth just _something._ Nick squirms impatiently, not caring about Troy's struggle to come down. "Troy, _touch_ me."

Troy kisses at his neck a couple of times before backing away from him.

Nick turns to see Troy putting himself away. He walks towards him and kisses him, grabbing one of his hands and guiding it to his cock, but Troy snatches his hand away. He pulls away with a frown. 

Troy crowds into him. "Maybe _Georgia_ will take care of that for you," he taunts directly into Nick's ear before shoving past him. 

Nick whips around to watch Troy leave, feeling hot and bothered and like he'd just been played. _Of course_ Troy was a big enough asshole to leave him hanging as a sort of punishment, even if he knew it was all fake. He gets himself off in Troy's shower out of spite, cursing him out the entire time. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I've written Trick or smut so I hope this isn't terrible asdfgdhsjdjd
> 
> I promise no more /others but I like Blatant Jealousy in fics okay sue me. Also more smut less plot next time I swear! 
> 
> anyways, please let me know what you thought of this! 
> 
> In regards to Trick I'm going to update All American Boy next then who knows what!


End file.
